


there is nothing to console me but my jolly sailor bold

by youheldyourbreath



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Fairy Tale Retellings, Little Mermaid Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24880228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youheldyourbreath/pseuds/youheldyourbreath
Summary: From the beginning of time, merpeople have followed but three rules of the sea.The first was to live in harmony with all creatures that inhabited the depths. Creature disputes were not the business of merpeople.The second was magic, bestowed to the merpeople by the Gods as a token of their favor, was not to be wielded to harm another merperson. Nor was it to be used frivolously. All magic had a steep price.The last was the most simple and sacred. Land folk were dangerous and were not to be trifled with. Ever.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 17
Kudos: 63
Collections: Spideychelle Week 2020





	there is nothing to console me but my jolly sailor bold

From the beginning of time, merpeople have followed but three rules of the sea. 

The first was to live in harmony with all creatures that inhabited the depths. Creature disputes were not the business of merpeople. 

The second was magic, bestowed to the merpeople by the Gods as a token of their favor, was not to be wielded to harm another merperson. Nor was it to be used frivolously. All magic had a steep price. 

The last was the most simple and sacred. Land folk were dangerous and were not to be trifled with. _Ever_. 

The humans were a savage race that pillaged their lands, harmed their own kind for trivial reasons and Mi'chelle supposed she ought to be glad that, on occasion, The Great Mother Sea took men for her own. Her sisters, for which there were six, one for each ocean, often teased their youngest sister that men were better drowned than left to their own devices. She wasn't certain she agreed with them, but she could not argue how her heart thudded in terror every time a human boat skid across the ocean surface, looming a dark shadow over all of the creatures below. 

The ocean surface was not safe. And Mi'chelle did not dare breach it, lest a human laid in wait. 

Except for rare instances. On occasion. Like the moon rising. Or the sun setting. Or a midday swim to admire the sky. 

Perhaps, the young mermaid could acquiesce, that she breached the surface more than she ought. But there was so much beauty to behold. It was cruel she was meant to lurk in the depths and miss it all. 

As the sun floated down, rejoining the Earth to make way for the pull of the hallowed Moon, the striking yellows and oranges of the sunshine burst like glittering diamonds across the waves. Mi'chelle spun up, making a whirlpool on her hasty attempt to reach the surface quickly. When her face burst from the blue, she extended her arms to feel the warmth of the sunshine as it began to disappear. She clung to the unfamiliar warmth. The sun was such a spectacular miracle. 

But not more than the _Moon_. 

"Mi'chelle," Edlin bubbled up, startling her sister, and snapped water at her sun-struck sister. "The surface? _Again_?" 

The younger sister laid back on the ocean, floating prettily on the surface, and said, "The Moon is rising." 

"The sun is setting," Edlin said. Mi'chelle could hear the frown in her sister's voice. But as she soaked in the last whispers of sunshine, the young mermaid found it hard to care about her disappointment. 

"Mm. You worry too much, Eddie." 

"You worry too little, my sister." Edlin knocked her silver tail against Mi'chelle's onyx scales. "Come along. The festival starts tonight." Mi'chelle groaned. "Don't tell me you had forgotten."

She sheepishly smiled, "I didn't not _not_ forget." 

Edlin pulled the silvery shell that adorned her red curls out of her hair and wove it into Mi'chelle's wet locks. It had once been their mother's trinket and traveled between the sisters like the ghost of her love. Her elder sister thoughtfully held the ends of Mi'chelle's hair between her index finger and her thumb. The younger mermaid probed, "What?" 

"Nothing," Edlin shook her head. The red of her hair swirled with the red on the water. "Shall we?" 

"Another minute more," she beseeched. 

And Edlin, who had never learned to curb her affection for her youngest sister, only smiled. "Fine." Mi'chelle began to grin. "But," Edlin advanced, raising her finger in warning, "You will be at the festival on time. I will not have a repeat of last year." 

"I told you. How was I meant to know that cave was a breeding ground for sharks? 

"Little siren, your curiosity is a dangerous thing." With a kiss to her forehead, Edlin retreated into the depths, disappearing from view as she went deeper and deeper. The sun could never penetrate the whole ocean. 

* * *

The Moon ascended with glorious purpose as the day turned to night. Mi'chelle closed her eyes and soaked in the beams. She fell into a meditative trance as the cosmos welcomed their long-lost daughter. For you see, mermaids and the Moon had a special bond. It was said that the Gods that gifted the mermaids their magic were the Moon and Stars. It was they that changed the tides. 

She took in a pearl breath. 

And when she opened her eyes, something shined in the distance. It was almost red, like the sun was when it first rose, and Mi'chelle felt panic bite at her tail. The Moon was still high in the sky. It was not morning. 

The red flickered and grew in size, like it was skating across the water. Mi'chelle looked back at the Moon and she swore she could almost see it smile. 

The little mermaid ducked beneath the surface of the ocean and swam the length to the red glow. 

It was fire, the destruction of mankind, floating on a boat. Mi'chelle felt her stomach plummet and her curiosity peak. 

She had never been so close to humans before. All her life she had been warned against them. The closest she had come to a human ship had been the shadow of one gliding across a reef when she was no older than twelve. Her mother had been alive then and wound a fantastical story about the hulking ship. She had said it was how the humans traveled without tails to take them home. 

Mi'chelle had remembered observing the boat and thinking it was not so unlike the bottom of a whale, and the young mermaid had never met a whale she disliked. 

She knew she should have turned back. 

_But then, there would have been no story._

Mi'chelle swam to the brown ship, like the cognac color of her sister Takara's scales, and outstretched her hand. When her palm impacted with the ship it was rough. All of the human ships she had seen at the bottom of the ocean had been saturated with water. It made them malleable in a way that this ship was not. It was a sturdy, hulking monstrosity. No doubt it could have carried more than twenty humans. 

The sound of music, like the whale calls of the sea but sweeter, filled the air. Mi'chelle tilted her eyes up and saw a perch. With some whispered words, the ocean helped her upwards where she sat across the beam. From her vantage point, just below the deck, she could see the humans flailing about to the music in nonsensical patterns. It was stupid and wholly endearing. 

When the music ended, the humans began to clap, applauding their good show. Or what the humans considered appropriate showmanship. Mi'chelle thought then of the swirls of water dances to welcome each solstice. 

They were not so different, she traitorously thought of the men on board, merpeople and humans. 

One of the humans, who looked no older than she, guffawed a sputtering laugh into his goblet. The men around him clapped him on the back and he gulped down a breath. "There you are," the man slapping his back, chuckled. "In and out, my Prince." 

The boy, named Prince, wiped uselessly at his eyes. "Thank you, Lord Stark." 

Another man, standing by with a distinctly upset brow, remarked, "You ought to leave the men to their revelry, my Prince. We should be reaching land by morning and you would benefit from some sleep." 

"Captain Rogers, I am quite capable of handling a few ales," Prince said.

"Let the boy live a little, Steve," Lord Stark rolled his eyes. "After tonight he won't have many nights of fun for a long time." 

Captain Rogers straightened up prim and straight, like Mi'chelle often saw her father do and she recognized the gesture for a show of strength. "Forgive me, my Lord, but the Prince is to be delivered home in the morning for the first time since his noble service in the King's Navy. He will need to be in tip top shape to meet his Court." 

"Now, see here, Steve--" The Lord began, but Prince graciously stood up, which silenced the two bickering men. He was a gentle human. He led with action, not brash words, and Mi'chelle felt her scales prickle interest. 

"It's quite alright, Tony. Captain Rogers is right. I'll leave the men to it. Having me around is only keeping the men from enjoying themselves. Goodnight."

The two men stiffly bowed and Mi'chelle hid a laugh behind her fist. She decided the boy, who was easily a head shorter than each man, was not an imposing figure. He was like a hermit crab that had yet to outgrow its shell. His status was too large and ill-fitting for the boy that inhabited it. If he was meant to command others, he had much yet to learn. But his gentleness in command was remarkable. 

Her mother had led with gentleness, too. For all the good that did her. 

The little mermaid felt something lick at her tail. She nearly jumped out of her scales. Mi'chelle looked down and saw a curious dolphin knocking its snout against her tail and she exhaled roughly. "What?" she whispered, in the tongue of the Sea. The mischievous creature cooed. "I'm not talking to the humans. I'm just _observing_ them." The dolphin whistled. "No," Mi'chelle correctly it. "This is not breaking the rules. Not technically." 

The sky broke open with a clap. Mi'chelle tipped her head back and welcomed the rain. The storm. The show of such sudden curiosity was a show of great magic. It stirred the seas. It was a welcome to the festival-- **THE FESTIVAL!**

Mi'chelle nearly cursed in five tongues, including pufferfish. She had forgotten about the festival. Edlin had warned her and still Mi'chelle had neglected her duties. If the great storm, to turn over the sea to welcome a new year, had already begun, she was more than late. She was catastrophically late.

The young mermaid threw herself from her watch perch and began to dive down into the water. If she was quick, she would make it for the final ceremony. It would not be enough to stop her father's ire, but it would be a balm to some of the hurt. 

Something sturdy collided with the water, sending it out in a ripple that penetrated the deep. She lifted her eyes to the surface and saw the boat that minutes ago was standing proudly on the ocean had capsized. Humans were kicking their useless legs in a bid to stay afloat. Another smaller boat was floating next to the ruined carcass of the once-upright figure. The kicking legs moved toward the smaller boat and hands dived into the water to pull comrades from the ocean. 

Mi'chelle looked down, where the festival was happening in full swing beyond the eyes of men, and upward at the humans being helplessly thrust around by the sea. 

She knew she ought to let them drown. Mankind was to be left to their own devices. It was their most sacred rule. 

But she could not help but think that no creature deserved to suffer the indignity of a cruel death. 

Not when mankind was capable of housing such a gentle boy in their ranks.

Her decision made, she cursed again, this time in eel, and torpedoed her way up to the humans. Mi'chelle was careful to avoid the men directly. She outstretched her webbed hand and used her magic, the phenomenal gift of the Gods, to aid the dying men. Those that were too deep to be retrieved by their friends were being aided back to the surface. The humans that had fallen into despair, too far from their friends to paddle the water to safety, found the courage to kick against the rumbling waves. 

Magic soared. It pulsed. It was a wild, crystal thing of female design. 

"Peter!" The shrieking voice of Lord Stark cried over the thundering skies. "Peter, are you there? PRINCE!" 

It dawned on Mi'chelle in sudden miraculous awareness. No, not a boy named Prince. A prince named Peter. 

Mi'chelle's sharp eyes skirted the black water for the boy that had danced so poorly. He was not floating downward to be claimed by the sea nor was he stranded afar. She did not see him. He was lost. 

She recalled what he had said last. The Prince. _Peter_. He was retiring for bed. The little mermaid looked upwards at the capsized boat and swam to the wooden hull. Magic glittered up her dark scales and with a hard smack of the flat of her tail the wood cracked open. She navigated the ruined ship until she found the boy. 

He was floating peacefully in the sea. The water had overtaken him and she thought his pale frame looked rather like the shadow of the Moon on the surface. He nearly glowed. 

She considered herself for only a moment, it was one thing to use magic to aid humans and another thing entirely to help them directly, but, in the end, it was no choice. She wrapped her arms around his heavy frame and hauled him forward, free of the ship. It was now sinking, another victim of The Great Mother Sea. She collected artifacts from time to time. It was her due. 

Mi'chelle had stolen something of hers in the shape of the boy. 

They broke the surface together and, in the roar of the rainstorm, she could not hear his breathing. Humans needed air. _He_ needed air. Mi'chelle looked up at the Moon that almost peered down at her in disapproval. She had gone and abused her magic at great length tonight. Yet, when she looked at the boy a fear clutched at her heart. She could not let him die. She would not. With great power came great responsibility. 

The Moon be damned. 

Her mouth descended on the boy as she granted him a kiss. The kiss of a mermaid was a powerful thing. 

For a too long moment, nothing happened. 

Then, he coughed up the lodged water, sputtering stupidly in the downpour. When his eyes opened, Mi'chelle watched him intently, the taste of his mouth still poisoned her, like some wicked spell, and he simply stared at her. She imagined disbelief or terror in his eyes, but all she saw was awe. His lips formed around the word, "You." And then, he was lost to exhaustion. His head lolled to the side and he blinked out like the bioluminescence of something mystical in the deep. 

* * *

She traveled the long journey to shore as the sun began to rise. It replaced the Moon, the most coveted astrological wonder of the merfolk, and was replaced with the sun. The humans worshipped the sun. It gave them light and new days that stretched forever forward into the future. 

They were opposites in many ways, but their worship of celestial bodies kept humans and merfolk eons apart. 

"Peter," she whispered in the common tongue of the humans of these parts, as they approached the shoreline. "Peter, wake up." The Prince stirred in her arms, but still did not wake. She nearly grumbled at her luck.

She scouted the shoreline for a stretch of land that was concealed and private. When she found something appropriate to deposit him on, she stalled. Mi'chelle had never been so close to land folk and their home. It was expressly forbidden. There was nothing on land worthy of her time and energy, her father had said when she was a girl filled to the brim with her mother's endless stories of human life. 

Mi'chelle looked down at the woozy Prince and swam toward land. The waves took her the rest of the way in, as she navigated the rough and dry sand of land. The boy was strewn about, limbs flopped every which way but contained, and Mi'chelle peered down at him. "Peter?" she said, guiding her webbed hand to his pale face. He stirred. She felt her heart lurch and she tried his name again, "Peter. Peter, please, wake up." 

She felt his soft hand, warm-blooded and un-calloused, close over her own. It was a strikingly gentle gesture. Sea bred creatures were made to endure the Ocean and her children. Humans were far too warm and soft and breakable. 

Mi'chelle rather liked it. 

"Wake," she breathed against his wet cheeks. "Wake up." 

His eyes blinked open and she felt the sunlight encase them both. It was morning. In a daze, he studied her face. She silently wondered if the scales that painted her cheekbones were terrifying to behold, or if her hand was too foreign. 

"You saved me." 

She nodded. 

"You kissed me." 

She nodded again.

"Who are you?" 

"Of the sea." _Who_ , she realized belatedly, was not _what_. 

He smiled in a way that was so earnest it was disarming. "No," he shook his head. He did not lower his hand, it held her webbed one to his face steadily. "Your name." 

"Mi--" The words faded from her tongue. She tried to grasp them, but the more she pulled at the knowledge, the less she seemed to possess. It was then she felt the sapped light of her magic begin to seep out of her, like the tapped hull of the ship she penetrated. It was leaving her in a rush. Everything. All at once.

Her eyes fell back, rolling up into her head, and the last thought she had before she descended into blackness was her name. 

_Mi'chelle_. 

**Author's Note:**

> this has an ambiguous ending on purpose. does she lose her tail, her voice and her magic because she saved Peter? does she return to the sea as seafoam? or is there a THIRD option????


End file.
